


Only One of Us Can Be the Better Half

by Movie_Riggs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Costume Party, Established Relationship, F/M, I like the idea that MJ and Flash pretend to hate each other but are really fond of one another, Rooftop Conversations, angst and comforting, dialogue heavy fic, it all works out in the end, sad but sweet question mark, sequel story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Movie_Riggs/pseuds/Movie_Riggs
Summary: Peter and Michelle have a heart-to-heart on Flash Thompson's roof during a late-night weekend costume party.DIRECT SEQUEL TO MY STORY 'THE WAY IT WOULD HAVE BEEN.'HIGHLY RECOMMENDED YOU READ THAT FIRST





	Only One of Us Can Be the Better Half

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: this story contains mentions of (but no actual scenes of) self-harm.
> 
> Just to reiterate: this IS a sequel story, and you should really read the first part in order to understand what's going on in this one.

It was difficult sometimes to remember that he was the only one who remembered what happened. The only one out of his classmates, at least. The only one at this party.

That was why so many of his classmates were dressed as superheroes. Hell, he was dressed as a superhero too (Iron Man, because it was virtually expected of him at this point, since he had been an avid fan of Mr. Stark's alter-ego from the beginning. Ned had tried to convince him to wear the actual Spider-Man suit, because it would be "so on the nose that no one will guess it," but Peter instantly nixed the idea). But it's just that some kids were dressed as Captain America. And that was different now, because Cap didn't make it and that made Peter think of how he almost didn't make it and that made him feel sick to his stomach.

_Don't think about the dust. Don't think about the dust._

Even with a little of Flash's parents' alcohol in him, he had to repeat this phrase to himself once or twice throughout the evening. 

Ned wore a plastic Hulk mask and some giant green fists to go along with it. His date was Betty Brant, who had dyed her hair red to be Black Widow. This was completely coincidental, of course, but Peter still got a laugh out of it because he was pretty sure there was (or at least had been) a quasi-romance between the two Avengers. 

His own date was Michelle, of course. They had been "a thing" for a few weeks now. That didn't mean that they did anything different than before, really, except that now Peter got to kiss her and she was the prettiest girl in the world so kissing her was like tasting the air of heaven itself. Her costume was Black Panther, not just because she was all about diversity in the superhero community ("It barely exists," she would always say) but also because she knew it irked Peter. He liked to subtly drop hints that her favorite superhero should maybe be the one that she was freaking _dating_ , but it was Michelle and she was not about to give him the satisfaction.

"Surprised you didn't come as CEO Pepper Potts," Flash said to her drunkenly at one point. "Pretty sure Stark and the king of Wakanda aren't the two that are married."

Michelle huffed in reply. "Yeah, right. Like you'll ever catch me with red hair."

Once Flash moved on was about the time Michelle hooked an arm around Peter's shoulder and said bluntly, "Wanna go talk about sad stuff?"

It was a curious question, but Peter shrugged and followed her. Michelle seemed to know where she was going. Upstairs and past Flash's bedroom, where she found a certain window that led out onto the roof. She opened it and climbed out, and Peter hesitantly did the same. Turning to make sure no one had come up and spotted them, he shut the window behind him and joined Michelle on the edge of the roof, where she was staring out into Flash's giant backyard, complete with a swimming pool and all.

Peter observed her empty gaze patiently, allowing himself a moment to adore the deep chocolate brown of her eyes. He liked brown. It was the color that reminded him most of Michelle. It was good to associate brown with her eyes, because there was a similar brown that could be compared to the brown of the _dust_. Thinking about Michelle was a good way to keep himself from dwelling on the awful ashes he sometimes felt like he was crumbling into again.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked.

"Being depressed." Michelle held up her empty red solo cup. "I think it's the alcohol."

"You've had too many of those," he chided.

"You've had more than me," she retorted.

"I've got a stronger metabolism," Peter pointed out (which was true. He was barely buzzed despite how unusually carefree he had been with his drinking tonight). "Why are you depressed?"

Michelle tossed her shoulders. "I dunno. It's senior year. I keep thinking about how we're all gonna leave and never see each other again in a few months."

"Oh," Peter mumbled lamely, because that was a true statement and not really something he could argue.

"I love you guys, you know that?" Michelle said. "I can't say it when I'm sober, but I love _all_ you guys. Not just you and Ned, but Betty. Cindy. Abe. Even Flash. Hell, I grew up next to Flash. My house is right across the street. He's practically my brother. An annoying, cowardly, stupid little brother. But still a brother. But the thing is...I don't know if everyone feels that way about me. I think maybe the sentiment only goes one way. Know what I mean?"

"I think so, yeah," Peter nodded, clearing his throat. "Well, you know, I can't speak for anyone else, but _I_ love you." Normally, that would have been a crazy thing to say, because he and Michelle weren't quite at the "I love you" phase yet, but he knew that she knew he was talking about a different kind of love, so he said it. "And Ned does, too. _Him_ I think I can speak for."

For a moment, Michelle rocked to the side, pressing up against Peter, before she sat up straight again and ran one hand over her face tiredly. "I know you do. It's just, sometimes I only know it in the back of my head. And all these other thoughts come in and tell me I'm unloved and I'm going to be alone forever. It's scary. It makes me want to do things. Like cutting. Sometimes I think about cutting. You know, me. Myself."

It chilled Peter to the bone to hear her say it aloud, but he sometimes still had nightmares about the version of her he had already _seen_ doing just that. Without thinking, he replied sadly, "I know."

Michelle's head shot up in surprise. Peter cleared his throat. "I just, uh..."

Before he could offer a (probably very weak) excuse as to why he would know that, she asked, "How come you never brought it up?"

_Because it scares me even more than the dust does._

"I guess...I just figured you'd tell me if you ever wanted to talk about it."

"Can I ask you something?"

Peter sat up a little straighter. "Anything," he assured her, and meant it.

Michelle lowered her head and her voice, realizing the weight of the question she was asking. "Did you cry when your uncle died?"

Peter was a little taken aback by the inquiry because it was so out of the blue, but he knew she meant no harm by it. "Y-yeah," he stammered. "Yeah, of course. It was...shocking. I cried a lot. Not as much as Aunt May. Maybe not even as much as Ned. But a lot. Why?"

"I didn't cry when my dog died," Michelle said matter-of-factly.

"Oh...when did that happen?"

"The summer before high school started," Michelle explained. "I know, big whoop, none of my relatives have died yet. I'm actually pretty lucky."

"No, it's okay. I get it."

"Anyway, my dog drowned at the swimming pool, because the stupid thing didn't know how to swim. My baby sister cried. My mom cried. I didn't cry."

"Why not?"

Michelle tossed her shoulders. "That's the thing, Parker. I don't really know. Sometimes I wonder if it's because I'm sick..."

"You're not sick," Peter said instantly. 

"...well, whatever. I didn't cry. It's like it just happened, and then instead of giving me any pain it just...skipped right to the part where it left a scar. I don't go swimming anymore."

"I noticed," Peter said, recalling the time in sophomore year when most of the decathlon team had snuck into the hotel swimming pool, but Michelle had sat on the sidelines reading her book.

She turned and looked at him then, cocking her eyebrow and momentarily replacing her melancholy expression with that trademark MJ smirk he had come to know so well. 

"Not in a creepy way," he said quickly.

"Sure, loser."

She bumped her shoulder against his affectionately, and he bumped back. For a moment, they sat in silence, enjoying the night air and each other's presence. 

"You've gotta promise me you're never going to, you know...do that."

"I know. I won't. Not as long as I have you."

"You act like I'm able to fix everything." Peter didn't know exactly what he meant by that, he only knew that she sounded just like Ned. Every time any sort of problem arose, Ned always believed Peter could do something about it, just because he was Spider-Man. Peter knew better. He couldn't fix everything. He couldn't fix most things. He couldn't fix _the_ thing...the one that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Other people had fixed that.

"You don't have to fix everything," Michelle said, as if she was reading his thoughts. "But you do fix me. I may not admit it when I'm sober, but you were what I needed in my life this whole time."

It was funny how, until he knew the inner turmoil she dealt with every day, Peter had thought the same thing about her. That _she_ was what _he_ needed. Well, he _still_ thought that. Only now, he was wise enough to know that no one, even the steely Michelle Jones, was emotionally invincible, and it wouldn't be right of him to treat her like she was. "Maybe we need each other," he said, both to her and to himself.

Michelle wrapped one arm around him and leaned forward, pressing her lips against the corner of his mouth. When she sat back, tender gaze locked on him, Peter found himself lost in the chocolate brown again. 

"I love your eyes," he said impulsively. Michelle clearly tried but failed to suppress a laugh. "I'm serious," Peter said. "I love them." _I love you._

"You're such a sap," Michelle said, rolling her eyes. _I love you, too._

They stayed up on the roof till long after the party had ended, watching the sun rise.

**Author's Note:**

> So...a little bit of me might be reflected in this one? Because I just graduated and already miss my friends like hell? But it's all good. Writing is the cure.
> 
> Kudos and comments are never not appreciated.


End file.
